


Dancing With Your Ghost

by Sephirron



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower, F/F, Pre-Timeskip, Song fic, angst no comfort, during Timeskip, this hurt me and I still wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephirron/pseuds/Sephirron
Summary: “We lost another battle…” she whispered to the stone. “The others will try to soften the blow, say it was a stalemate. But every moment we don’t move forward…”She sighed, wringing her hands in her lap. “Every moment we don’t move forward, I can’t move on.”She moved closer to the grave until she had made her way around it, her back resting against the stone, looking at the blanket of night in the sky and the scattered stars.“If I’m honest, Captain Jeralt, it hurts to try,” Edelgard admitted, a suffocating grip coming around her heart, burning in a way that if it could, it would beacon into the dark. Calling, searching, for a life now lost. “I suppose you’re the only one who knows where she is now. Tell her that I…”ORWar leaves no rest for the Emperor. Edelgard still mourns.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Dancing With Your Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I bring you another piece of the Edeleth angst train! This hurt me so now I must share it with all of you! 
> 
> Inspo this time is: Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Edelgard sat silently in front of her vanity, her reflection in the mirror solemn, nearly ashen. Her lilac eyes were almost void of emotion, staring endlessly ahead of her. She then heard a sharp knock against her door, with a soft call of “Your Majesty”. A little light returned to her eyes and she sighed at her reflection. She reached her gloved hands for the golden ornate crown before her, fitting it around her carefully styled hair, feeling the weight of it sink down to her toes. She stood slowly, the vibrant regal cape flowing behind her with each step towards her door. She reached for the door handle and paused, lowering her head. 

When she turned, she looked upon a soft stuffed bear, in all its fuzzy glory, gilded with tiny plates that mimicked armor. 

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She did neither as her head rose again, shoulders level, the crown balanced. She opened her door, nodding at the guard, and making her way out, the heavy door slamming shut behind her and echoing in the empty halls.

Edelgard had made her way out of the monastery to the front gates, where the main unit was waiting to set out for yet another battle. The biggest one yet. It was a silent march, Edelgard maintaining the fore, the Black Eagles trailing loyally behind her, and speaking amongst themselves. 

It was during these few moments, Edelgard reminisced the most.

***

The fires of war had raged across every corner of the realm, fueled by the blood soaking into the trodden soil. The five years that had passed were torturously long, agonizing, and dim. The Black Eagles and their emperor carried on their path with a void ever present in their hearts but refused to shy away from the front lines. Though this particular day was especially heavier. Their weapons nearly rooted them to the ground in their grasps, their armor threatening to drag them to the depths of the earth.

They all remembered this field.

Edelgard stood at the head of the troops, using her axe as both the support she had come to rely on and a stake in the land. Her jaw ticked, lilac eyes becoming somber though none could see through the heavy-laden fog. A gust of wind blew past and a screeching call sounded in the clouds, an eagle flying overhead. Edelgard almost smiled, the breeze almost filling the place of where the Professor once stood beside her all those years ago.

She had been so excited, her smile a gift she never thought to receive after their victory.

She wondered if she would be happy now if they managed to win here.

Armored footsteps approached across the field, reverberating through the trees and the cliffs. Edelgard gripped her axe tighter, the King and Duke Sovereign coming into view with ranks in tow. She could hear her own troops shifting, steadying their weapons, the heat of magic at her back. She heard Hubert’s voice commanding the troops to fire and the meteors of fire spells dropped from the sky onto enemy lines.

Chaos flooded through then, the earth began to rumble beneath their charge.

Edelgard clashed with numerous soldier’s, her axe cleaving in graceful arcs, the whirl of silver cutting through the fog. She felt their blood splatter to her cheek but she couldn’t look at their faces as they fell, she decided long ago it was easier that way. But perhaps, easier wasn’t the word to use.

Tolerable. Dull. Emptier. 

It was the conditions she clung to, to survive, to lead. 

It was a bloody battle. Bodies littered the field as torrents of smoke billowed through. The King was forced to retreat though she could see the bloodthirst in his eyes, practically spattered on his lips. Claude knew a losing battle when he saw one and retreated as well, living another day a victory to him.

Edelgard had suffered a wound, a lance had sliced through her forearm that made it impossible to hold her weapon. An arrow had caught her cheek, red bleeding with red regalia. And despite the suffering, the war continued as it always had, a deadlock. 

“Edie, you should come over to Linhardt to get that looked at,” Dorothea spoke softly to her, not daring to touch the emperor. 

Edelgard turned to her then, the stoic look on her face a commonplace expression. “Yes, of course, thank you, Dorothea.”

The tone sounded so distant but Dorothea did nothing to bring her back. She knew it would be futile post-battle, everyone worn, spent, and wounded. Though Edelgard never admitted her turmoil, she knew. So she let her go to deal with grief only she could understand. 

Linhardt had been tired to say the least, apologizing to the emperor with, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. This should hold you over until we get back to the monastery.” His voice was hoarse and his face was pale, the blood ultimately too much for him. She nodded at him to convey her sympathy.

“Thank you, Linhardt, this is enough,” Edelgard said slowly, peeking at the healed flesh, still red and angry, like many of her scars. 

When they returned to the monastery, Edelgard bid Hubert to take care of the reports post battle. He knew that look in her eyes, a faraway one. Normally, he would say something, advise her from a place of good intention only reserved for his majesty. But where Hubert was loyal he was extremely observant. 

Edelgard wanted to be alone.

***

It was nighttime by the time they had returned and under the cover of darkness, Edelgard drifted through the monastery until she came upon a grave.

_ Jeralt Eisner _

_ \- 1180  _

It was in front of his grave, she sat, tucking her legs beneath her, looking reminiscent of a young girl rather than an emperor and commander of an army. It wasn’t the first time she had done this, taking these moments of privacy, and it certainly wouldn’t be her last. Some nights were silent.

This night was not.

“We lost another battle…” she whispered to the stone. “The others will try to soften the blow, say it was a stalemate. But every moment we don’t move forward…”

She sighed, wringing her hands in her lap. “Every moment we don’t move forward, I can’t move on.”

She moved closer to the grave until she had made her way around it, her back resting against the stone, looking at the blanket of night in the sky and the scattered stars. 

“If I’m honest, Captain Jeralt, it hurts to try,” Edelgard admitted, a suffocating grip coming around her heart, burning in a way that if it could, it would beacon into the dark. Calling, searching, for a life now lost. “I suppose you’re the only one who knows where she is now. Tell her that I…”

A silver streak of a tear trickled down her cheek. And then another. She didn’t bother to stop them, her body trembling against the cold stone. Her bones ached, her wounds begging to be healed, her cries falling on dismal silence. Her crown was slipping from her hair, catching the glint of the moon.

In these moments, she allowed herself to be just Edelgard.

It wasn’t the same without the Professor to be the one to make her feel that way.

And as always, Edelgard pulled herself from the grave, treading the shadows to allow herself a few more moments of respite from her burden. Later, she would reprimand herself for hiding from the world she set to create. After all, she couldn’t greet a new dawn from the shadows. She just never imagined she had to do it alone. And even that was a lie, she was ready to move forward without them if she had to. But having the taste of bliss, of a life where burdens were shared, a reality where something as simple as friends existed - made her crave the normalcy. 

The unusual light to her darkness. Unusual, but she loved it all the same. 

It was after these visits to the graveyard, she would collapse into her pillows. She was exhausted, the weight of gravity something she could feel in every nerve ending of her battered body. She knew the dark would come, sleep would slide her eyelids closed, but she knew it would never leave her rested.

It was the same dream with sickening variations. 

The world had been shaking beneath her feet and the sky was collapsing around her. The Immaculate One had been towering above them in its rage, roaring in a manic state, spewing fire and magic from its mouth in every direction. Edelgard would see soldier’s scrambling to get out of the way, hobbling on wounded limbs. The Black Eagles were taking cover behind whatever claw gouged building still stood.

Then the chains would come, bounding her wrists and her ankles to a stone wall, her axe clambering to the ground in a heap. The harder she fought against the restraints, the tighter they became, nearly tearing at her flesh. But she didn’t care, she had to try to fight it, had to break free. Tears of desperation would wet her cheeks, stinging the cuts on her face. She would watch Byleth fall, body tumbling off a cliff, coat tattered and her cheeks bruised.

“PROFESSOR!” she would scream, the sound tearing at her vocal chords, lungs aflame. But it would always go unheard.

And then it would all go dark, an abyssal void engulfing their surroundings. She could still see Byleth falling, neverending, never hitting the ground. Then Byleth’s eyes would open, her cobalt gaze piercing her heart.

“Edelgard, help me,” she would say. 

The Eagles would turn to her, blood smeared on their faces and hands, armor singed, and pleading looks.

“Edelgard, help us,” they would beg.

And like breaking the sea’s edge, she would take a stuttering gasp of air, shooting up from her bed. The tears were always there, sobs already rattling her ribs before she realized where she was. It was always then she would curl in on herself, clutching the armored bear to her chest to somehow soothe the throb in her chest. She would fall asleep again, the memory of Byleth’s small smile holding the bear as she held it out to her, the only semblance of peace she would get for the rest of the night.

***

“Guard, why are you posted here? You were assigned to guard the front gate, as always.”

The gatekeeper bowed to the towering shadow of a man. “Forgive me, Marquis Vestra. But I cannot let you pass through these doors.”

“I would consider your next words, very, carefully,” Hubert warned, a threat like poison dripping off every word.

“Her Majesty ordered me to stand guard, Sir. She wished to not be disturbed,” he reported dutifully, giving a signature imperial salute. 

“I… see,” Hubert replied, not expecting the answer. He then took to the other side of the door and stood in front of it with his arms crossed in front of him.

“Marquis Vestra…?”

“I shall remain here until she emerges,” Hubert answered, his words coming to a point as sharp as a dagger. 

“U-Uh, yes Sir.” 

Past the doors, Edelgard occupied the empty ballroom, donned in nothing but her nightgown, her hair flowing freely. The few lit torches scattered shadows on the walls that danced to the beat of a waltz. With her hair nearly golden beneath the flames, skin tinged in hues of fire, she rose her arms, one hand raised as if holding onto a shoulder and another wrapped in an invisible palm. 

She would breathe deeply and hear the lull of the piano, the strings singing with the melody. 

The night had been festive, all smiles and silver shine. Even Edelgard felt in a lighter mood than usual. She had been standing off to the side, idly sipping at the champagne flute in her gloved fingertips. She felt her cheeks go warm from the drink and she almost giggled behind her hand when Ferdinand nearly tripped over his own feet as Flayn danced with him, her eyes glittering with excitement. Caspar had even pulled Linhardt to the dance floor and led them with boisterous laughter as Linhardt lazily followed his moves, a subtle tilt in his lips that indicated a smile.

It was a good night.

Edelgard had been so engrossed with the liveliness around her that she didn’t notice someone had approached her then. A certain teal-haired professor and there was something different about her.

“Professor!” Edelgard squeaked. “Y-You’re wearing a dress?”

Byleth looked down on herself, swishing the fabric around her in graceful arcs. The dress was a simple black chiffon dress that flowed to the floor. The color made her eyes look even more vibrant than usual, almost twinkling. The sleeves were a lace that stretched down to a V shape on her back, showing pale scar-kissed skin beneath the woven patterns.

Edelgard thought she looked divine. Her breath was in her throat, the glass in her fingertips nearly slipping from her grasp.

Byleth looked up at her then, her expression plain. “Dorothea insisted that I wear something a little different to the ball other than my armor.”

“Well, the look suits you, Professor,” Edelgard said as steady as her voice would allow her. She held back a noise in her throat when the Professor’s lips ticked up in a smile. 

“Thank you, Edelgard,” she said sincerely. She then offered her hand to the princess, looking a lot more delicate without her armor. “Would you like to dance?”

Edelgard felt herself smiling widely, the feeling unfamiliar. She took Byleth’s hand gently, letting herself be led onto the dance floor as another waltz slowly started. Byleth’s palm gently caressed her waist and held onto her hand in the other. The strings began to pull in dramatic strikes, the drums marching with the beat, the melody prancing and echoing through the halls. 

Byleth led them well, energetic and swift on her feat, Edelgard swaying with her as if they had practiced as partners for a millenia. The dance floor had cleared to watch the pair but neither had any thoughts on the matter, continuing to twirl over the dance floor, Byleth’s dress flowing with a flourish that caused the students to gape in awe.

Edelgard knew how to dance, knew how to correctly follow the beat and follow the patterns, but no dance has made her body sing like this, like it was on absolute fire that didn’t burn but ignited her soul. Her snow-white hair glowed beneath the lights, a bit of laughter escaping her lips if Byleth would ever dip her or twirl her away only to welcome her back in an embrace. 

“Professor, you are quite the dancer,” Edelgard chuckled once they were face to face again. 

Byleth smiled down on her, eyes gentle but also sparkling with an emotion Edelgard had never seen on her face before. “You are quite the partner, Edelgard.”

“I have a good teacher.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks were dusted in a blush all the way to her ears. She would blame it on the champagne for losing her cool head. “Forgive me Professor, that sounded far less corny in my mind.”

Byleth shrugged. “No trouble.”

An embarrassed smile was on Edelgard’s face but she didn’t bother to move away even after the song ended and a thunderous applause filled their ears. The music eventually faded into something lighter, softer. The strings only pulled in gentle waves, a piano caressing its tune. Byleth didn’t move either, her grip on Edelgard still firm. Other pairs of students were starting to join them on the floor.

“Would… you like to dance once more?” Edelgard offered, shyly looking up at Byleth through her lashes. 

Byleth only answered by continuing to sway them once again, their moves less extravagant than the previous dance, but not to be mistaken as lackluster. Simply, peaceful with a tenderness that made Edelgard’s heart flutter. As they continued to dance, Edelgard’s thoughts had wandered. She thought about everything that happened since the day they had met.

It almost made her smile if she hadn’t felt so, bittersweet. She thought of the Professor's shadow, standing steadfast in front of her to protect her when she had been a complete stranger. She thought of the striking enigma she was, face impassive but controlling the battlefield as if it were a game. Her words always with purpose, when she would point out openings in her guard but commending her on her efforts when it was earned. 

And then there was just Byleth. The woman who had invited her to tea and chatted with her idly, remembering her favorite tea. The woman who had knocked on her door in the dead of the night, offering her a safeplace from the terrors that still chained her soul. The woman who stood next to her with patience as she fumbled through kitchen duty, eating anything Edelgard made in earnest. The woman who let her share silent moments by her side as a fishing line bobbed in the pond, Edelgard sitting near, the water not nearly as terrifying from where she sat.

And the Byleth in front of her now, looking down at her still with a smile, the rarest gift she had ever received. Beautiful in all her simplicity. She dreaded to know what life would be like with Byleth not walking the same path. 

Edelgard had tucked her head on Byleth’s collarbone then. Byleth peered at her, a question in her eyes, not a rejection. It gave her hope. 

“Is this okay?” Edelgard asked quietly. 

Byleth nodded, her cheek rubbing on the crown of her head. They moved back and forth in the same spot, slowly as if savoring the moment. Though they had danced for a long time now, when the music faded once again, Edelgard frowned at the loss. Byleth, ever keen, sensed the shift in Edelgard’s mood, a sympathetic tilt to her head.

Byleth bowed and took Edelgard’s hand once again, and lifted it to her lips, pressing a ghost of a kiss against her knuckles covered in silk. 

“Thank you, Edelgard.”

Edelgard heard the soft voice in her ears as she opened her eyes, hand outstretched in front of her in the dim light beneath the torch flames, the ghost of Byleth fading into the shadows. Her bare fingers trembled and clutched hollow air, her knuckles going white. She sunk to her knees, bringing her hand to her chest, gripping the fabric of her nightgown willing the ache to be torn from her heart.

It never does, only fading when Byleth’s ghost haunts her once again in the empty dark with a memory of a waltz. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ;-; 
> 
> The waltzes I listened to while writing this as well are:  
> Masquerade - Aram Khachaturian  
> The Night of the Ball - FE3H.
> 
> I hope you *enjoyed* the angst! Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Follow me on twitter @EdelgardEisner for updates from me and more gay shenanigans. And while you're there, check out the @Fodlan_Olympics, a cool collaboration project I'm a part of. <3
> 
> Be well, stay safe everyone! 'Til next time!


End file.
